


soulless creatures

by ofstarsserene



Category: His Dark Materials (TV), His Dark Materials - Philip Pullman
Genre: F/M, chapter 6 contains spoilers for TAS so be careful with that if you haven't finished the books yet, they are so terrible ugh, this ship owns me and you know what no regrets
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-07
Updated: 2020-02-17
Packaged: 2021-02-27 22:54:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 4,714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22603570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ofstarsserene/pseuds/ofstarsserene
Summary: a series of marisa x asriel snippets.
Relationships: Lord Asriel/Marisa Coulter
Comments: 27
Kudos: 59





	1. frozen, I held my breath

The first thing Asriel notices about her is her eyes. Impeccable curls, a perfect smile and a brand new dress draw his attention much later – but it’s her gaze that utterly betrays her. The blue of her eyes is no calm sea fit for an obedient wife and a charitable hostess. No, it’s the dark blue of a stormy ocean, with promises of dangerous discoveries and with demons that haunt your dreams.

He falls into Marisa Coulter’s gravity with ease, his stare following her delicate frame around the room. Stelmaria cautiously growls by his side ( _What are you thinking? It’s not what we came for_ ), but Asriel decides that being reasonable is not his concern tonight. He is coming back North in three weeks, surely London has to offer him something to compensate for lost time while he is stuck here.

He inserts himself into a conversation that she holds with one of the elderly scholars that came to support her husband’s upcoming campaign. He expects her to be irritated, but instead she sounds amused with his attempts to befuddle the old man into withdrawing from the talk that was, thanks to his efforts, turning into a heated debate. 

If there is one thing Asriel is good at, that would be being insufferable when it comes to academic matters. It takes him a couple of minutes to claim victory – his opponent excuses himself to fetch a drink, leaving Asriel the sole object of Mrs. Coulter’s current interest.

“I believe we haven’t been properly introduced,” she says, her blue eyes studying him with curiosity that would unsettle most men in attendance today.

But Asriel thrives on challenges and mysteries, so he retaliates with a smirk.

“Oh please, if you cared about propriety, you would have thrown me out already,” he kisses her hand, keeping her gaze. “Lord Asriel Belacqua, at your service.”

He senses her daemon – a golden monkey, as prim and proper on the outside as his human – curiously eyeing Stelmaria. Mrs. Coulter, on the contrary, doesn’t pay the creature much notice.

“Marisa Coulter,” she replies, “but I presume you already knew that.”

“And the lady would be correct in her observations. I heard that Edward Coulter married. There was something about it in the papers.”

“You find time to read papers in the North?”

It’s her turn to smirk when he is visibly surprised by her remark.

“It seems you also know a thing or two about me.”

“The famous Lord Asriel – how could one not know about you.”

She sips champagne, and the sparkle in her eyes almost matches the sparkle in her drink – and just as Asriel plans to question her further, she is whisked away from him by one of her friends who claims that she simply must hear of the dealings that her husband has with the Gyptians.

( _What are you trying to gain from this?_ )

“I don’t know,” Asriel replies as his daemon’s tail brushes his leg. “But it could be fun.”

Stelmaria makes a guttural noise, indicating her irritation.

Asriel’s eyes are on Marisa once more, as she joins a discussion held by a group of lavishly dressed women who must be someone’s wives too. For a moment her gaze wonders, for a moment locks with his.

It’s the impossible depth of the blue ocean that Asriel is trapped in.

Oh yes, he thinks, it will most certainly be fun.


	2. touch me slow, feel my heart bleed

It’s been two months since a posh party brought Marisa Coulter to Lord Asriel Belacqua, and Asriel is gone, irrevocably gone. His bedroom smells of her, her presence evident in his rumpled sheets and in the scars on his back. He aches for her, but she just laughs, amused by his sulking, unaware of the way her eyes pierce his very soul.

Or, perhaps, she is aware, and she is cruel to him, as she is cruel to everyone else around her.

“It’s barely dawn. You could stay.”

“Don’t beg, Asriel,” she says, fastening her dress. “It doesn’t suit you.”

She kisses him goodbye, but he catches her wrist as she pulls away.

“You are quite wicked, Marisa.”

She grins at him, and he wonders whether she grins like that at her husband.

He wants to kill Edward Coulter if she does.

“Isn’t that why you want me, Lord Asriel?”

Her perfume lingers long after she’s left.


	3. like I'm gonna lose you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> asriel is lost in lapland.

Asriel was supposed to return five weeks ago. He said he wouldn’t be away for long this time, that his project was on the verge of completion. But his expedition is lost somewhere in Lapland, and Marisa is exhausted from tossing and turning at night, sick with worry.

At first she thinks he’s just forgotten about her among various wonders of the North, and that makes her furious. Until one day she overhears a conversation at St. Sophia (“Have you heard about Dr. Felton? I knew he shouldn’t have agreed to this – trouble follows wherever Lord Asriel goes, and now his expedition is missing! Poor Charles, so young and promising…”) – and Marisa’s heart skips a beat.

Lord Asriel Belacqua, this reckless, infuriating man is now gone, trapped somewhere North, lost to her.

Marisa finds it harder to breathe whenever the thought crosses her mind. She cannot pinpoint a moment when this man stopped being just a distraction from her dull married life, how he managed to crawl under her skin, but he did, and now she fears for him more than she ever feared for anyone or anything else.

“Come back to me…”, she whispers, aimlessly roaming the library at Jordan College, stopping and turning whenever she hears the heavy door creaking.

She thinks she is going mad, because some nights she throws herself into her work in order to forget, but more and more often the desperation comes, and she aches to hear something, _anything_ from him.

Religion and faith have always been the last thing on Marisa’s mind, and every prayer that her mother forced her to learn as a child is just an empty sound to her. But Asriel has been missing for five weeks, and one night Marisa finds herself in a tiny St. Sophia’s chapel. Her surroundings are barely perceptible in dim candlelight, and the smell of incense irritates her senses. Marisa’s daemon shudders and whimpers, but Marisa closes her eyes, and she prays in her own twisted way, her head hurting from the unfamiliarity of it all.

Asriel, a heretic, would find it amusing, but it’s the only thing keeping Marisa sane while her anxious heart waits for his return.

*****

It’s another party at someone else’s fancy place – Edward finds more and more influential friends these days, and every time the affair is long and tiresome. Tonight Marisa welcomes the distraction though. She brings a fake smile to her face, gives her voice that sickly sweet tone, and she is someone else – a perfect wife for a promising politician, not a woman who is almost crumbling from worry and insomnia.

Marisa hates Asriel with everything she has. How does he do it? How could she allow him to hurt her so? She hates him, she _hates_ him – but a traitorous whisper in her heart tells her this feeling is far from hatred, and the thought chills her to the bone.

Edward asks her for a dance, and she accepts his hand with a smile. 

Play your part of a happy wife. Fake adoration for your husband. It’s as easy as that. You trick others, and maybe you will trick yourself too.

Edward is a decent dancer, and Marisa manages to relax a little – but out of the corner of her eye she catches a sight of a snow leopard’s tail swinging from side to side, and Marisa stumbles, missing a step.

“Are you alright, darling?”

“Oh, yes, I am perfectly fine. Perhaps the wine was a bit stronger than I thought.”

Marisa regains her balance and catches a glimpse over Edward’s shoulder. Asriel’s eyes pierce right through her, while Stelmaria gracefully lies at his feet, licking her paws. 

Marisa almost runs to him, but her husband’s hands on her waist keep her in place like cage bars, and she is grateful for the fact, because running into her lover’s arms for all the world to see would be unbelievably foolish. She curses under her breath.

“Are you sure?” Edwards looks at her with so much tender concern that it makes Marisa sick. She wants to slap him. “You look pale.”

Her golden monkey is not trapped in an unwanted embrace. Marisa sees him darting across the room, settling next to Stelmaria, clawing at her. Stelmaria growls, and Asriel winces.

Marisa needs to stop this. She needs to escape this room that suffocates her.

“I…” she frowns and closes her eyes, making it look like she is having a dizzy spell. “I think I should get some fresh air. Will you excuse me for a moment?”

Marisa untangles herself from her husband’s embrace, gives Edward a reassuring nod (“I am fine, truly.”) and prays that he won’t follow her to the balcony outside.

It’s a chilly night, and Marisa welcomes the cold that bites her heated skin. She takes a long breath, grips at the railing, trying to stop her heart from beating so frantically, as if it will come out of her chest and flutter back into the crowded room, right into Asriel’s hands.

He’s alive. He’s here. He’s come back to her.

Marisa barely registers her monkey tugging at the hem of her dress, but when she does, she knows that it won’t take long before Stelmaria finds him. It always unnerved Marisa, how hers and Asriel’s daemons are so fascinated with each other, so comfortable in each other’s presence. It makes her wonder about “maybe”-s and “if only”-s, and Marisa detests the feeling.

If Asriel comes to her, the balcony won’t do. It’s too open, too dangerous.

Marisa thanks the Authority that her husband’s friends are pompous enough to have a maze at their backyard. She runs to it, further and further down the green pathways, knowing that wherever she goes, Asriel will find her. He always does. 

*****

The maze is huge, and it’s the most stupid and the ugliest thing that anyone could ever design. But Marisa Coulter doesn’t care about it in the slightest – because her only concern at present is Lord Asriel’s lips hungrily nibbling at her neck, his hands roaming her body with passionate eagerness. Her own palms are at his chest, and she feels his strong heartbeat at her fingertips, her own heart rejoicing from having him near.

She hates him. She wants him. She _loves_ him.

Asriel covers her neck and jawline with hot kisses and bites at her earlobe, and his fingers gently pressing at her lower back make her shiver. But Marisa can’t let him see how badly he affects her, won’t give him the satisfaction of seeing her undone, so she stifles her moan, scratches at his neck and pulls him in for a rough kiss, savoring the taste of him that she has been deprived of for so long.

She breaks the kiss only when all the air is sucked from their lungs, and they are both gasping for air.

“Marisa-”

“You bastard,” she pants, their foreheads still touching, “not a single word from you.”

“I couldn’t risk it. You would kill me if Edward noticed anything.”

“Still, it’s been two months, Asriel! You can’t even imagine what I had to go through, how I-”

Marisa shuts her eyes and stops talking, realising what she’s done. She’s revealed too much. Damn it.

When she looks at Asriel, he is positively glowing, grinning at her.

“You were worried about me?”

Instead of answering, Marisa kisses him softly, cherishing the feeling of his callous hands slowly caressing her bare back.

“You cannot fathom how much I missed you.” Asriel whispers to her in between kisses.

“What, no witch could match your peculiar tastes?”

“I don’t want any witch. I want you.”

The raw emotion in his voice makes Marisa’s head spin. If only she could, she would never let go of him, she would embrace him so tightly that eventually they would become one, never to be separated again.

But it’s only a silly dream, and back at the mansion the party is in full motion, and soon her husband will be looking for her. Marisa groans in frustration, pushing Asriel away, but still keeping him close.

“I should go. Edward will notice I’ve been gone for too long.”

Asriel is clearly reluctant to release her from his embrace. He lets out a deep sigh and presses his head to her shoulder, his hands clutching her hips. Marisa gently scrapes at the back of his neck. His ragged breathing on her collarbone is too much for her to handle after two months apart. If she doesn’t run now, she will be ruined.

“Asriel,” she pulls at his hair, kisses his temple and then pushes him away once more, finally able to escape his arms. “I must.”

She turns to leave him, but he catches her wrist. The familiarity of it stings, her pushing and him pulling her back.

“I will be at Oxford.” Asriel rubs his thumb over her pulse point, and Marisa feels her breath hitch. “Don’t know for how long. Maybe for a week, maybe for a month. Come to me, Marisa.”

Asriel kisses her open palm, and his lips burn her, leaving an invisible mark. Marisa jerks her hand away from his. She is used to his feral side and to his possessive nature, and she doesn’t know how to deal with this new-found gentleness. It hurts her very soul.

“I’ll let Thorold know. Goodbye, Asriel.”

She runs away as fast as she can.

She really hates him. She hates him so much that she truly fears it must be love creeping into her graceless heart.


	4. could you be home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> when mornings are soft and filled with aching.

She looks magnificent in the early morning light. Her hair is a tangled mess on his pillow, and the peaceful look on her sleeping face is the sight that Asriel wants to carve into his memory. 

They rarely get moments like this. Usually Marisa runs away from him, disappearing into the night, but this time he wakes up to the faint sound of her breathing, her curves impossibly soft under his touch. He knows it won’t last – her husband’s eventual return will mar this fragile, unspoken thing between them. But for the next couple of days Marisa is his to hold, and Asriel finds comfort in the thought, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

Marisa stirs and sighs, still half asleep, her eyes slowly blinking. She wrinkles her nose as a ray of sunlight dances on her face, and Asriel holds his breath.

He is not sure if it’s love, but it’s certainly something akin.

“Good morning,” he rumbles, as his hand travels from the dip of her waist to her shoulder. Marisa smiles, her eyes still closed, and snuggles closer to him.

“You should have drawn the curtains.”

“I am not in the habit.”

“Well, you should make it a habit while I am here.”

Marisa plants a quick kiss on his chest and falls back into slumber.

Something has shifted between them recently, and Asriel feels it. Their first meeting was all banter and innuendos, and then in less than a month they were clinging to each other in the darkness of his bedroom, her sharp nails like claws on his back, her growl in his ear pushing him into oblivion. She’s always been like this – pure malice, no mercy, enjoying seeing him panting and lost in the feeling of her.

But now her kisses are often soft and languid, and, when she stays at his place, she wraps herself up in his shirt at breakfast and laughs at him when he scrunches his face as he tastes her tea, a bit too strong for his liking. It’s a state of bliss too fleeting to be real, and Asriel chases it and fears it at the same time. 

It’s too easy to forget that they both have lives of their own, that one day she will go out the door and never come back. It wasn’t supposed to be like this, but when he thinks of Marisa, it’s thinking about someone to come home to. Nothing in the North can compare to how she shivers under his touch or how her breath quickens when he kisses the hollow of her throat.

Asriel knows that this dream is dangerous, so he chases it away. He will have to learn how to let go of her. In time he will burn any memory of Marisa out of his mind – but not today.

Today he runs a finger down her spine and kisses the top of her head. Sunlight fills the room as Asriel drifts off to sleep, hugging Marisa closer to his chest.


	5. white frost on the horizon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> did someone say "masriel being soft in lapland?" (don't worry, they are still a mess)
> 
> [this one might be the most ooc of them all, idk, i stopped caring somewhere in the middle]

The snowstorm was raging outside, and Marisa shivered, wrapping the blanket tighter around her shoulders. She found that she was grateful for the cup of chamomile tea Thorold had made her – she took a small sip, and it helped her warm up and calmed her stomach.

She felt disappointed that she hadn’t got the chance to explore the mountains with Asriel. Marisa was here in her official capacity as a scholar, and she knew Asriel would greatly benefit from her contribution to the research. But luck was sadly not on her side, as she became sick out of nowhere, feeling dizzy and sleepy for the past couple of days. Asriel was adamant he would not let her get far away from the station in a state like that.

He was right, of course. But Marisa was still annoyed – partly at him and partly at herself. She had traveled North before, and everything had been perfectly fine. Whatever reason her body had found to act up now, Marisa was certainly not happy about it. She hated feeling useless.

The book she was reading was awfully dull – she marveled at how it had got published at all, when all the explanations were impossibly long and confusing, and Marisa had already found several mistakes in the calculations presented as proof of this ridiculous study. She was starting to doze off when she heard the heavy station door opening. Marisa could make out two muffled voices exchanging several remarks, and a moment later the bedroom door opened with a creak. Stelmaria trotted inside, yawning, with Asriel behind her. Marisa lazily stretched her arms above her head, smiling at Asriel’s unkempt look as he threw his scarf on the floor.

“Did I wake you?” he asked, noticing her movement.

“No, I wasn’t sleeping.” Marisa put the book away, delighted to finally have a decent distraction from her boredom. “Did you find anything of interest?”

“I’m not sure. It’s yet to be seen. I’ll have to look at the photographs I made. I hope they are not ruined – this horrendous storm could have tampered with the equipment.”

Asriel was sulking, and Marisa chuckled at the sight of mighty Lord Asriel distressed and his scholarly pride wounded.

“Well, if only you had _someone_ to help you keep everything under control.” Marisa rolled on her side to face Asriel properly. If she was to toy with him, she would make sure to watch his reaction with utmost attention. “But of course, you are an independent thinker, the mere idea of a partner must seem ridiculous to you.”

Asriel gave her an irritated look. He was frustrated, and he was tired, but Marisa couldn’t miss the opportunity to torment him a little more.

“Don’t start, Marisa. Your presence would only hinder the experiment.”

“…Excuse me?”

Asriel rubbed his hands over his face and sighed deeply. “You know what I mean.”

Marisa was too dumbfounded to form a response right away. How dared he talk to her like that? Her golden monkey menacingly hissed at Stelmaria, but the leopard ignored his attempts at intimidation, graceful as ever. Marisa was furious, her hands itching to leave bloody scratches on Asriel’s face.

“No, Lord Asriel, in fact I do not.” She was practically hissing herself, as her daemon jumped at Stelmaria, digging his claws into her neck. Stelmaria snarled and pushed him away. Asriel was breathing heavily, his daemon’s pain evidently echoing in his body.

“You can scream at me all you want, Marisa, but after I’ve taken a hot bath.”

Asriel slammed the door on his way out.

*****

“You are angry.”

Marisa lay facing the wall, hugging heavy blankets tighter to her chest. She pointedly ignored Asriel when he returned, and she moved further away from him when he carefully settled down at the edge of the bed.

If Asriel sought reconciliation, he surely had to try harder.

Marisa heard Stelmaria growl. Her roaring “Asriel…”, barely audible to Marisa’s ears, was followed by Asriel’s loud huff. Marisa was pleased by the fact that even his own daemon was annoyed by his actions.

“I should have said it differently.”

“You shouldn’t have said that at all!” If he wanted a fight, Marisa would give it to him. “Do you even understand how much I risk coming here? Contrary to your belief, Edward is no fool, and the amount of plausible excuses I can use is limited. Every time it’s a gamble of whether he suspects something.”

Marisa turned to look at him, and Asriel reached for her, but she slapped his hand away.

“And do you know how much I hate it, now that I’m here?” she continued. “Being stuck in bed like a porcelain doll, reading dreadful books of your fellow Jordan scholars – do you know how humiliating it feels, Asriel? And now you’re telling me that I am merely a pretty thing on your arm!”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“And what _did_ you mean?”

Asriel was tentatively deciding on the strategy to approach the topic. Marisa could see the struggle in his eyes, but his confusion only added to her irritation.

“You know I value your mind, Marisa,” he started, “and you know I recognize your brilliance. I wouldn’t have asked you to come with me if I didn’t.”

“But you still won’t let me help you.”

“No, I won’t let you go with me to the mountains,” Asriel continued, leaning closer to her, “but if you are willing to assist me in the laboratory, I will be honored.”

Marisa was mad, but she couldn’t help a chuckle escaping her lips. Seeing Asriel so lost that he would hide behind grand words fit for presumptuous books or tiresome speeches was a sight to behold.

“Honored, of course… It’s nonsense, Asriel.”

Asriel slowly slid under the covers next to her, keeping his distance, so as not to get on her nerves even more. Marisa was staring at the ceiling, and from the corner of her eye she could see him watching her, studying her face.

“How are you feeling?”

“That is not the point!”

He reached for her again, and this time she allowed him to stroke her arm.

“Marisa, be reasonable. You know that I would gladly explore the deepest of caves with you, if not for you feeling unwell. I said that your presence would distract me because I would be worried more about you than about that bloody equipment.”

Asriel leaned in carefully, brushing his lips against her ear. A part of her still wanted to shut him out and teach him a lesson, but Marisa couldn’t deny that she’d missed him all day, and him being gentle and soft broke her resolve.

She turned over and pulled him in for a hug, burying her nose in the crook of his neck. Asriel was infuriating, but him freely admitting that he was concerned about her wellbeing was unusual, and Marisa couldn’t stay mad at him for long.

She wasn’t over it though.

“I am not fragile. The fact that you think otherwise is insulting.”

Asriel planted a lingering kiss on her forehead, and she huddled deeper into his arms.

“You are the strongest woman I know. But as long as you are sick, you are not leaving the station.”

“And what makes you think I’ll listen to you?”

Marisa felt his chuckle vibrating against her chest.

“Something tells me you won’t. But, if needs must, I’ll tell Thorold to lock you in.”

She playfully slapped him on the chest, but kissed his jaw nonetheless. Asriel was pleasantly warm against her, and she felt perfectly comfortable with their limbs entangled under the covers.

Tomorrow Marisa would execute her revenge, so that Asriel would think about his choice of words in the future. But for now she would let him sleep, content to have him by her side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let’s play a game called “guess why Marisa isn’t feeling so well”. Spoiler – it will get someone named Edward murdered and make someone named Asriel penniless.


	6. someday I'll breathe again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the abyss shows marisa glimpses of other lives.  
> (other lives are basically aus that i dream of, but have no emotional capacity to write properly)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is one big spoiler for The Amber Spyglass, so be careful if you haven't read that yet.

Falling into the abyss is tasting emptiness on your lips and being blinded by sticky, engulfing darkness. Marisa clings to her dying lover, and she blinks away tears as Asriel slips away from her grasp, as Stelmaria disappears in a swirl of golden dust that Marisa’s monkey desperately tries to hold on to. It hurts to breathe, and Marisa is tired of thinking, of feeling, of _existing_. It doesn’t take long for her daemon to let out his final cry and burn away, the pain of losing him tearing her soul apart.

Marisa screams and claws at her own face, until her body goes still, her mind flooded with frantic visions.

*****

It’s a sharp intake of breath – and she is a witch, powerful, vicious and cunning, and he meets her in all her electrifying glory, and their love is an avalanche destroying everything in its path. North is their kingdom, and when the Magisterium comes, they are ready to fight, chasing the thrill of the kill.

Their love is a massacre to avert your eyes from.

(He may promise her the world, but the Magisterium promises her absolute power, and she betrays Asriel, chasing an impossible dream. 

The fury in his eyes will haunt her nightmares until the day Yambe-Akka comes for her, having no mercy for her corrupted soul.)

*****

It’s a blink of an eye – and she is a siren, luring sailors to their death, and all the sea monsters do her bidding. 

One day she conjures up a storm and laughs, watching the shipwreck with delicious cruelty. She saves him though, because Asriel is strong and stubborn, and he defies death until his lungs are heavy with water and every gulp of air is futile. She brings him back to the shore, breathes life into his body with a harsh kiss and an incantation, and she leaves before he can look at her, knowing that the memory of her voice will poison his mind and drive him into madness.

(She miscalculates, and the bond between them scourges her heart. 

She comes to him in the middle of the night, clutching an enchanted dagger to her breast, but he wakes up, and the weapon falls out of her hands as he draws her to his side, and she collapses on the bed, locked in his embrace.

She weeps as he worships her body, and she pulls at his hair as his kisses brand her skin and his fingers send her over the edge.

She turns into seafoam at the break of dawn, trading her life for his.)

*****  
In another life Marisa Delamare meets Asriel first, and it’s a lightning bolt through their hearts, as they fight with each other before inevitably colliding, rivals to partners to lovers, shining brightly and proudly, and no Magisterium is capable of suppressing their glow.

In a life so different from the one they left behind, Asriel sweeps her off her feet and circles her around the room while Marisa laughs, drunk with happiness.

It’s her covering Asriel’s face with kisses in the morning and him devouring her in the night, and it’s his ring on Marisa’s finger, as she becomes Lady Belacqua against all odds. And it’s Lyra’s first steps, Lyra’s first words, Lyra, her Lyra, _their_ Lyra… In another world they find each other just in time, and they make it work.

*****

In the stillness of the abyss Marisa smiles, before her mind goes blank forever and darkness engulfs her whole.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it, the conclusion! There will be an epilogue, because I cannot end this series on a sad note, now can I? But otherwise this project is complete.


End file.
